How You’ll Actually Celebrate Summer Solstice

Because you’re an adult and it’s downhill from here

Photo from NASA Goddard Space Flight Center

In your head, you probably have images of yourself going to the park or the beach and basking in the late daylight. You’ve seen pictures on Instagram of Swedes drunk on aquavit dancing around a midsommarstång and singing songs as their Nordic hair reflects bright rays of summer-afternoon light. That looks nice, you think. I should get out of this office today and eat lunch at a cafe outside. I should take a walk around a pond. I’ll spend less time on Facebook and get out of here at a decent hour so I can do something tonight. Have a craft brew on the sidewalk. Take a blanket to the park and really stretch out with a book and baguette and some cheese. Maybe even some cured meat. Treat myself to that turmeric kombucha I never buy because I can’t justify paying $4.50 for 12 fluid ounces of soft drink. Yeah. That sounds good.

Here’s what will actually happen:

• You eat lunch at your desk because by the time you get through the line at Hale & Hearty, it’s been a half hour and you need to get that copy proofread so you don’t have to stay late so you can enjoy the bright, summer evening still. You don’t eat outside or take that walk. You hurry back through the lobby and up the elevator to your office. You plop onto your ergonomic desk chair and spend your lunch trying not to get balsamic vinegar (plain, no oil) onto your shirt.
• You waste precious minutes reading about what Trump said about the special elections. You start fretting about the ACHA and the nefarious shit sentient excised polyp Mitch McConnell is up to. You lose track of time and then go make a cup of green tea to get out of your funk and get cracking and you look out the window and realize it’s getting on into the afternoon. You get back to work. It’s afternoon. This when you’re In The Zone.
• Okay, so you’re not as In The Zone as you thought, but you’re still leaving the office with plenty of daylight left! Unfortunately, the current state of mass transit in America and general road, tunnel, and bridge maintenance has made it such that it’s going to take 50 to 65 percent longer to get home today than it should. You arrive home 1) sweaty, 2) angry, 3) indignant at the state of society that allows tax breaks and bailouts for the wealthy but doesn’t fund critical infrastructure for the vast majority of the citizenry, and, worst of all, 4) hungry. So, so hungry.
• There are still a couple hours of daylight left. But you need to eat and there’s no time to pick stuff up before going to the park. In fact, there’s no time for the park or beach or whatever. There’s definitely still time for a nice stroll and a civilized pint outside at the neighborhood pub, though. Is there a better place to spend the last hours of the solstice anyway? Nope. So you cobble together a salad and throw some vegan meatballs or some similar shit in the microwave, but while you’re waiting, you’re really hungry so you binge on some Triscuits and cheese while you work the salad spinner. Then you eat some more because the vegan meatballs or some shit are too hot.
• When the vegan meatballs or some shit cool off, you eat this sad meal, on the couch while watching just the first twenty minutes of the next episode of House of Cards. This show has really gone to shit in the last few seasons but, fuck, is it ever addictive or what? You finish the first episode and there’s maybe an hour of daylight left. Plenty of time, but you ate too much because you also ate all those Triscuits and a wedge of cheese and, yeah, some chocolate from Trader Joe’s you kept in the refrigerator. You’re tired. It’s too early for bed. But you can’t get up off the couch just yet.
• Oh, no, what’s this? Netflix automatically throws on the next episode of House of Cards! What is Frank Underwood going to do next? People are losing their faith in our democratic institutions in this show just like in real life. Wild.
• You finish season five of House of Cards. It’s late. You open your laptop to check the score of a baseball game you didn’t watch. You feel like you were supposed to do something. Oh, shit. The solstice. Oh well. Tomorrow’s another day. The daylight tomorrow is only like a minute shorter. It’s still practically summer solstice on Thursday. Definitely take that walk.

Dane A. Wisher is based in Brooklyn.